


Twisted Benediction

by megasaurus



Series: The Mandalorian Fics [3]
Category: The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Cyberpunk, Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-11
Updated: 2020-03-11
Packaged: 2021-02-28 22:34:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,015
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23104813
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/megasaurus/pseuds/megasaurus
Summary: So, with the remainder of his strength, he jumped.The sensation was brief. Falling through the air. It was like when an aeroplane took off, and you felt as though you were sinking through your seat. But it was over as quick as it started. He landed in the dumpster with a crash muffled by rain and the sounds of the baby screaming.
Series: The Mandalorian Fics [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2021803
Comments: 6
Kudos: 40





	Twisted Benediction

He had three things on his mind.

The first was a given. He was being hunted, and that needed to stop.

Each step he took was a risk. Each leap from each building rendered him vulnerable. The Imperials were hot on his trail, and they were not going to let up for anything, even in the howling wind and the pouring rain. They would not stop until he was dead.

The second was how he was going to get home. The Imps would not relent. He needed a way out, and he needed it fast. The hunters were slick. They could climb buildings with a flick of their wrists. They could lurk in the shadows, use the dead of night, the violent rain, and they could strike. And they would take no prisoners. If they found him, he was dead.

The third was the bundle in his arms. A baby. No older than six months. It cried into his jacket, wailed when the raindrops fell heavy on its face, when the wind slammed against it as Din leapt from one building to another.

The fluorescent city lights were blinding. Even in the heavy downpour, even with his visor shielding his eyes, Din struggled to see, struggled to find stable footing. His shoes had been designed to withstand the elements but still, he stumbled and slid.

The wind howled, but all he could focus on was the baby. Cold. Its blankets soaked to the core. It screamed, and his heart felt heavy.

There would only be one way out. He needed to find somewhere to land, and sneak away. Blend into the crowd, and find a way to his apartment. Get the baby _warm._ Keep it alive, and call Cara for help.

But there was someone behind him. Frantic teeming footsteps. If he tried to jump now, he would be followed, and he would be done. And if he was done, then so was the baby. It would all have been for nothing.

He was at an impasse. He'd come to a harsh stop, his sneakers slid on the wet black roof, and he turned towards his perpetrator.

They wore only black. Even amongst the blaring lights, Din could only see a silhouette.

"End of the line, Mando."

He had only two choices: jump off, or fight.

A sudden gust of wind slammed into him. The baby wailed. Din could no longer distinguish the tears from rain.

"Hand over the kid, and I might consider letting you live."

The hunter's voice was like venom. Slow and grating. Carefully applied, each sting and each bite digging into your soul.

He had knives. One in each hand. They were small, unassuming, but Din recognised them. They were the Imps' favourite weapon. Branded with the Imperial Crest and the blade as hot as lava. They would burn through anything.

The Imp leapt at him, one arm arched backwards, ready to skewer him like pork. Din skittered to the side and drew his own knife from its holster. Din launched at him. He slashed at his arm. The Imp yelped in pain then stumbled backwards. The torn skin beneath the black leather jacket was pale, a brilliant contrast against the surroundings.

With the baby hugged close to his chest, and his knife secured firmly in his palm, Din dashed in the opposite direction. The Imp had been momentarily stunned. This gave him the very few seconds he needed to find a new way out.

Now, he was sprinting back the way he came. Not ideal, but if it could get the Imp off his tail, then he was prepared to do anything.

Anything to keep the baby from harm. Keep it alive. _Keep it away from the Imps._

There was an alleyway. He'd skimmed over it before, but this time, he had a headstart. The Imp followed close behind, but Din knew he was far enough ahead to blend almost seamlessly into the rain.

The drop wasn't far, but he knew if he landed legs first, both of his ankles would snap. But even with the rain obscuring his vision, he could see the faint outline of a dumpster. If he landed in there, he could spare the broken ass, and hide under the lid if the Imp decided to follow.

So, with the remainder of his strength, he jumped.

The sensation was brief. Falling through the air. It was like when an aeroplane took off, and you felt as though you were sinking through your seat. But it was over as quick as it started. He landed in the dumpster with a crash muffled by rain and the sounds of the baby screaming.

He waited. If the Imp was going to follow, they would jump down after him. But when there was so sign, he shuffled his way out of the trash, sighing at the sight of perfectly decent food encased in a dumpster.

There was an overhang, so the rain was no longer pouring down on them. The baby's screaming was only louder now that there was no rain to muffle it.

He manoeuvred himself onto solid ground. The first thing he saw was a bewildered homeless man staring at him as though Din'd just appeared from thin air. Perhaps from his perspective, he had.

He reached into the dumpster and pulled out the food. "Here," he offered. "It's fresh."

The man took it, though reluctantly. Din caught sight of the symbol branded on his wrist. He decided not to comment.

Din, still holding the baby in one arm, managed to shake off his jacket. Still using one hand, he turned it inside out so that instead of the black fabric, it displayed a crimson red.

Then, he took off his helmet.

It was freeing, in a way. Feeling the wind as it suddenly slammed into his face, making his eyelids flutter. The world was so much brighter without it.

Sighing, he pulled the jacket back on. With the baby in one hand and his helmet discreetly in the other, he left the alleyway and joined the crowd.

**Author's Note:**

> if - IF - I find the time and the motivation, I will continue this. for now, enjoy a small little prologue.


End file.
